So this week has been the worst week in a LONG time.
Only as recent as last week I was feeling the happiest and most positive I’d ever felt. I’m married, to the love of my life, I have an amazing job with absolutely wonderful colleagues and students, and I’m getting my own business off the ground.
I thought I’d finally ‘made it’.
Then, Monday morning hit.
I was in agony. The most pain I’ve been in since before my surgery (which, by the way, was nearly a year ago now!)
I struggled in to work and tried to battle on with painkillers.
Like I mentioned before, I absolutely love my job. I’ve been there just over 2 months now and it’s the most wonderful place to work. I have amazing, supportive, understanding, encouraging colleagues who are genuinely lovely human beings. The students I teach are also great – too often they are written off by society because of the area they live in/are from, but they are honestly wonderful characters and they make my job a joy and a pleasure to do! My lovely manager tried to send me home at Monday lunchtime, as I think she could see how much I was struggling. I refused. I wanted to make it through to the end of the day, as I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this stupid pain was going to keep me off for a lot longer than an afternoon.
I was right.
I’ve been off the past couple of days in the hope that some holistic therapy, pain meds and rest would help me to feel better.
I went to see the doctor this morning.
She was horrible.
I don’t ever remember having an appointment with her before and I don’t ever wish to again.
She didn’t know anything about my medical history and told me to “shh” while she spent 10 minutes reading my extensive notes (surely she should’ve done that BEFORE my appointment?!)
She continued to be rude and abrupt with me and told me she was sure my symptoms weren’t down to endometriosis.
I knew they were because I know my own body and I’ve been dealing with this illness for the past year (probably longer, albeit undiagnosed).
I was then prodded and poked in all of the areas on my abdomen that were in agony, for her to tell her it was probably an ‘inflamed bowel’ then an ‘inflamed appendix’ before she finally put me through the humiliation and extreme pain of an internal examination.
She then changed her mind and decided that my scar tissue was probably infected, that I’m unfit to work for at least a week and need a double dose of strong antibiotics.
Just fucking great.
Here we go again.
She still wouldn’t refer me to my consultant and at one stage told me to put my phone away after she’d told me to check when was best for an appointment next week.
I’ve never in my life complained about a GP, even though I have had so many reasons to in the past 12-18 months.
Now, after complaining, I magically have a referral letter that will be ready for collection tomorrow morning, along with a follow up appointment with the Senior Doctor next week.
Totally and utterly ridiculous.
I’m sick of the total lack of understanding for my condition and I’m sick of having to battle for help when I say I’m in pain.
I’m so scared of not being able to work when I’m finally in a job I love and in an amazing workplace with wonderful people.
I’m scared that I’m going to get worse and never be able to work again.
Just when I felt things were going well for me, and I was truly happy, my body gives up yet again.
I feel like I always complain when I come on here, and I’m sorry for that, as I’ve had a really happy few months.
Sometimes, you just really need to vent, don’t you?!